


Bast

by KChan88



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Canon Era, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-14
Updated: 2017-07-14
Packaged: 2018-12-01 22:38:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11496195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KChan88/pseuds/KChan88
Summary: Courfeyrac cat sits a stray for Joly, and finds a kindred spirit. Featuring an appearance by Enjolras.





	Bast

**March, 1830.**

“Don’t look at me like that Joly.”

“Look at you like what, Courfeyrac?”

“Staring at me with those imploring wide eyes,” Courfeyrac complains, fiddling with his cravat in the mirror, his curls falling limper than he likes. “You know the effect they have on anyone with a soul.” He turns away from the mirror, eyes scanning the room. “Dammit, I’ve lost my hat again.”

“You change your hats more often than France does a government,” Joly remarks, a hint of Combeferre’s wryness in his tone. “Now I promise for certain it’s only an hour…”

“You going to meet Musichetta for only an hour?” Courfeyrac says, turning back toward his friend with a grin. “Please, my friend. Don’t think me such a fool. Why can’t Bossuet simply watch the furry creature?”

_Meow._

The sound echoes in from the main room of Courfeyrac’s apartment and in through the closed bedroom door.

“He’s out with Enjolras and Bahorel on an errand with another society,” Joly says. “Some students from the Polytechnique.”

“You know I had planned to attend a party this evening,” Courfeyrac says, turning back toward his friend, a complaint in his voice but a smile slips onto his face anyway. “Because a lady of my acquaintance that I would prefer to know better than I do at present will be there also. And yet here you come with this tale of woe about this cat you found in an alley near your rooms this morning expecting me to just melt? I’m insulted.”

“Oh please,” Joly says, sprawling out across the bed on his back, tilting his head so he’s looking at Courfeyrac. “You love animals. And you melt easily.”

_Meow._

“See?” Joly says. “She knows it too. Besides you also love me.”

“Oh,” Courfeyrac says, failing at scowling. “You and your freckled charm. All right, fine.”

“I promise you will not be more than an hour late to the party,” Joly says, sliding off the bed and planting a kiss on Courfeyrac’s cheek. “That way you’ll miss all the boring bits, anyhow.”

Courfeyrac opens the bedroom door and the cat in questions comes sauntering in, the sunlight from the window making the lighter stripes on the dark brown fur look gold. She winds her way around Courfeyrac’s ankles, chirping.

“You know the way to my heart don’t you little one?” Courfeyrac asks, picking her up off the ground.

“See?” Joly says. “It was meant to be.”

“I believe you have a lady to attend to?” Courfeyrac says, reaching out and attempting to ruffle Joly’s hair, but his friend dodges out of the way.

“Don’t you dare Courfeyrac,” Joly says. “I only barely got it to lay flat. But I’ll be back, and thank you again. Truly.”

“Of course,” Courfeyrac says, waving his hand. “Go enjoy your romp in Cupid’s fields, or what not.”

Joly bows, grinning, then tips his hat at Courfeyrac before dashing out the door.

“Well then,” Courfeyrac says, removing his jacket so he doesn’t wrinkle it. “I suppose it’s just you and me, then.”

_Meow._

The cat butts her head against Courfeyrac’s forehead.

“Oh but you are a heart stealer, aren’t you?” Courfeyrac asks, sitting down on the bed. “You’ve possibly prevented me from a rendezvous with a woman I’d quite like to kiss, if you’d like to know the truth of it. We’ll just see if Joly is back when he says he will be.”

The cat explores the bed, kneading at the soft covers before turning toward Courfeyrac, tilting her head as if to say _but aren’t I much better company?_

“I can’t just call you cat, now can I?” Courfeyrac says. “Though I am not keeping you of course. Joly is, but still. I am watching you on your first night, I should be allowed to name you. I could call you Bast, I suppose. That’s an Egyptian goddess, you know.”

The cat curls up in the crook of Courfeyrac’s elbow in response, and he feels his own eyes growing heavy.

“It’s decided then,” he says, yawning. “She was the goddess of war at one point, I think, as well as the goddess of cats. Or was a cat goddess? Either way. Perhaps you could be a help to us in the revolution we’d like to enact. We’d rather like to get rid of the monarchy, you see. France did, for a bit but now we’re back to it again, unfortunately.”

Bast chirps sleepily, resting her head on arm, the fur soft against his skin.

“I’ll take that as your agreement then,” Courfeyrac answers, closing his eyes. “I’ll tell Enjolras you’re the newest among our ranks.

The warmth emanating from the small creature lulls him to sleep, and he stays that way until he hears a knock at the door, the sound jolting him from sleep. Bast starts, letting out a mewl of protest.

It is, Courfeyrac notices, now dark.

“Joly you liar,” he mutters, rubbing his eyes as he goes to open the door.

“Oh, Enjolras,” he says, seeing his friend on the other side. “Was I expecting you?”

“No, I was just nearby after my errand with Bossuet and Bahorel,” Enjolras says. “But I appear to have woken you. Are you ill? It’s only 8:30.”

“No no just fell into a bit of a nap,” Courfeyrac says, gesturing him inside.

_Meow._

“Oh,” Enjolras says, eyes widening in surprise and landing on Bast. “I…who is this?”

“Ah you know,” Courfeyrac says, picking Bast up and offering her out to Enjolras, who tentatively pats her head. “Just the cat I am now planning to steal out from under Joly.”

“I’m afraid I’m lost.”

“Joly found her near his rooms this morning,” Courfeyrac explains. “And asked me if I’d watch her while he was with Musichetta. As predicted, he took longer than he imagined. So really, it’s only fair.”

“That you steal the cat,” Enjolras adds, clarifying.

“Of course,” Courfeyrac says, grinning as Bast sticks her head under his chin. “She even looks like me, I think.”

“Truly uncanny, indeed,” Enjolras says, smiling.

Bast chirps her agreement.


End file.
